Bonchurch is perhaps a mile from Ventnor, and is the boskiest bit of
loveliness in all the lovely island. By every approach you enter it
under the interlacing arches of noble old trees; ivy and ferns mask all
with tender and dark glossy green; the thatched cottages are masses of
honeysuckle and jessamine, their tiny windows and gardens gay with old
English flowers; you may stand beneath fuchsia trees so reddened with
the profusion of blossoms that at a little distance they are like
nothing so much as tall clumps of barberry bushes laden with the ripe
berries; you may visit, by introduction or permission, gardens of the
lovely villas nestled in dells here, perched on bold crags there, or
backing against the abrupt gray cliff, which has here no turfy
covering--gardens such as one could well dream away life in, with no
wish to range beyond their bounds, had one in this work-filled world no
conscience about long dalliance in an earthly paradise. In one of these
gardens I wandered long one afternoon that was not sunny, and that was
yet not sombre, the air of balmiest breath, all the earth and sky
softened with the changing, tender tones one finds not out of England.
The house was grandly placed against the cliff, and the garden, which
was rather a succession of gardens, was all up and down on the scattered
terraces provided by long-ago landslips. There were modern gardens with
banks of color and mosaic parterres; old-fashioned gardens, clipt and
quaint; a fernery brought bodily from Fairy-land; clematis, ivy,
woodbine and jessamine clambering and flowering against the wall of
crag, and fuchsias that seemed to have no foothold swinging long,
jewel-hung branches from far overhead. In one place, from a broad low
arch at the crag's base, a clear spring rushed forth. One could see some
yards within the arch, discern rare ferns, a shimmer of ghostly lilies,
and one vigorous tuft of maiden-hair that dropped a veil of tremulous
green lace almost to the water's edge. Still, vines and vines, and in
this little garden of the grot what a magnificent growth of canes,
cannas and pampas-grass; with walks now dropping into densest shade, now
climbing out upon a bare spur of rock or lap of smooth lawn; the musical
rain of a fountain in the green depths below; the hamlet and neighboring
villas so lost to sight that the very birds might well doubt where to
pierce the leafy canopy to find home, wife and callow nestlings; beyond,
and round all,